


Protector

by writingramblr



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Book References, Drabble Fic, Episode Related, Episode: s04e03 Breaker of Chains, F/M, Forced Kiss, Shippy, before seeing episode 4, me predicting stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 17:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1557911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa was saved from the wrath of the Lannisters, but how safe is she truly?<br/>Lord Baelish attempts to comfort her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Protector

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after the ridiculously shippy feelings i got watching episode three, and then when it happened for real, minus the best part, imo, on the next episode, i felt like cheering. I do usually prefer SanSan stuff, but i make exceptions for truly wicked ships.  
> now here's hoping for more guilty pleasure sansa/petyr shippy ness on the show...

"My lady?"

Petyr's soft voice startled Sansa from her dozing, and she looked to find him standing at the entrance to her tiny cabin.

"Lord Baelish?"

That familiar smirk had crossed his features the instant he saw she was awake.

"Petyr please. No need for formality. How are you finding your accommodations?"

She frowned,

"If there's no need for formality, why do you keep calling me _milady_?"

His laughter echoed in the confined space, and something about it chilled her,

"Manners of course. We are not savages simply because we have left the capital behind."

'The mischievous glint in his dark eyes says differently,' Sansa thought to herself.

She decided to ignore it for the time being.

"You said I'm going home. But I was under the impression the Greyjoys had taken Winterfell."

Petyr nodded somberly,

"That is true Sansa. But I said home, and I did not specify. We will be going to _my_ home. It will be the only place they will not think to look for you."

Sansa felt her nerves take flight, not settle at this new information.

"What if someone recognizes me? And reports back to the capital?"

Petyr stepped closer to her, and she sat up, closing the distance between them.

"There are things that can be done. And they will. You will be given a new name, and your hair can be dyed to disguise the familiar color. With time you will become known as someone else entirely."

He reached out to take a red wave of hair and rubbed it with his thumb, as if imagining it a different color.

"Will that work?" Sansa asked in a hushed tone, for his closeness was making her thoughts more hectic than usual.

Petyr smiled, and she saw nothing but a facade,

"Of course. You trust me don't you?"

Sansa merely nodded.

His hand shot out to grab her chin, and he forced her to meet his gaze,

"I need your word Sansa. Trust me, and be loyal, and you will never know pain in your life."

He left the obvious threat unspoken.

His grip was not painful, but it was firm. She could not look away from him if she had wanted too.

Sansa gulped,

"Yes. I trust you."

Petyr's eyes shut briefly before they snapped open again.

"Thank you, my lady. Forgive me."

Precisely what she was to forgive became clear the very instant he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

This was only the second kiss she'd received from a man, besides her father.

The first, forever burned into her memory, was the one the Hound had stolen before vanishing into the dark and leaving her truly alone, that kiss was always on the forefront of her mind, even after having been married off to the only Lannister she didn't have nightmares about. He had never dared to touch her, and even at their wedding, he'd only kissed her cheek.

Now, with her newest protector and self-sworn guardian doing such a thing, she wasn't sure how to react. She didn't like it, for it didn't make her knees weak like she'd read about, and it didn't make butterflies in her abdomen dance, as the Hound's kiss had.

But it rather made her feel warm, as if she was getting a fever.

The instant she might have attempted to prolong it, by reaching for him, he pulled away, and relinquished his hold on her. She'd barely noticed how the hand not on her chin had slipped down to clutch her waist. The hand on her face had moved to cup her cheek, so he'd really given her control back much earlier than she'd thought.

"If you should need anything, you must only ask."

He was gone in a whisper of fabric and a soft slam of the cabin door.

He left Sansa wallowing in a bundle of nerves and feelings she didn't quite understand.


End file.
